


Questions

by alan713ch



Series: Waiting for the Darkness [10]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Scott McCall, Banshee Lydia Martin, Gen, In Media Res, Magic, Pie, Questions, The Nemeton - Freeform, Witches, cameo from another character, cameo from other fandoms, lots of pie, moar danny, posession, spells, what is danny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-15
Updated: 2013-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-04 18:40:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1084385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alan713ch/pseuds/alan713ch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Melissa and the Sheriff go on a date. Isaac takes care of Allison, who seems to be a bit engrossed with a problem from her mother's notebook. Lydia stops fighting the Banshee in her. </p><p>Episode 8 of my alternate 3B</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> Thanks for stopping by!
> 
> This is an alternate season 3B (a lot less darker than what the show will probably be, based on the trailers). It is a very serialized work, and this episode (8) already assumes you know what happened in the previous episodes. So if you haven't, I strongly suggest you give them a read!
> 
> There are mentions of violence and they can get pretty graphic. I don't think there are other triggers, but I do warn against that one. 
> 
> Again, thanks for stopping by, and enjoy the bumpin' ride!

"So you sure you OK with this?"

"Stiles, ask me one more time and I'll nail your balls to the wall."

"Yeesh, no need to get graphic."

Lydia just smiled her sweetest smile and left with Danny. Allison and Isaac left together and Scott had brought the bike this time. 

"So, are you scared?"

"Of seeing Lorena, why would I?"

"I meant..."

"OH MY GOD YES I AM ARE YOU SURE WE SHOULD LET THEM DO IT?"

"We've always thought it was gonna happen."

"Yes, but we were young and inexperienced. We knew about sex but we didn't understand it."

"Dude, we knew about sex because of one of your research binges. I was too young to know everything you dumped on me that night. And thank you for the nightmares! Why did you do it, again?"

"I don't remember."

"Yeah, I figured. It's fine - go home, make sure you dad dresses up nicely and then go hang out with Lorena. It's fine, stupid."

"You're stupid."

But his best friend smiled that doofy grin before hiding it under the helmet and Stiles couldn't help but think that he wasn't. Or at least he wasn't that stupid. 

He had been dating Lorena for months now. _Months_. He wasn't even sure how that happened. 

He only knew that she had been nice to him, even if she was a bit stand offish and slightly tempered, and he knew he was head over heels for her, in a different way that he had been for Lydia when he thought he was in love with her. 

It had been a crush. Being in an actual relationship had taught him that. At least he could still call her friend. 

That made him smile. As a matter of fact, he always smiled when he thought of Lydia, even when he was scared of her. He presumed it was that she was his tether to this world, since the darkness around him almost disappeared whenever he thought of her, and he wondered if Allison felt the same about Isaac. And he wondered if Scott had to think about Deaton constantly. 

It hadn't escaped him that his father had told him he needed to inform him of whenever he was to see the druid. Apparently Melissa had told the same thing to Scott. 

They didn't trust him? Why?

Another thing to think about. On top of everything else. Good that he thrived in chaos, then. 

He parked in the library's public lot. He usually didn't use Beacon Hills Public Library, particularly because it wasn't that comprehensive in some of the subjects he studied - not that the school library did, either, he had started to accumulate his own collection and then the internet was a good source when you manage to skip all the Rule 34 material you encounter. And of course, all the bullshit. But since Lorena was not a student and apparently she needed to do some research _in books_ to appease her grandmother, here they were about to make it a date. You know, a study date. 

He grinned stupidly when he saw her get off her car, without her usual burly shadow that drove her everywhere. 

"Stiles!"

"Hey, babe!"

He kissed her and she kissed him back, smiling. 

"Thanks for doing this. I don't know if boyfriend and girlfriend are supposed to spend so much time together, but then you have all your research with your emissary training and all that stuff and I don't know even if it's convenient..."

"Hey, flailing and tangent-subject wandering are my specialties, not yours."

"Maybe you are rubbing off on me."

"Yeah, your mom won't be happy about that."

Lorena just smiled, and he couldn't help but see something in her eyes.

"What is it?"

"Huh?"

"You look worried."

"It's just this stupid project."

"Oh, come one! No project is stupid, no matter how simple it looks. Something my dad always said."

"How is it, being son of the Sheriff?"

"Nothing fancy, really, it's not like he lets me see his cases or anything, I'm mostly there to hold him up so he doesn't forget he needs to follow a heart healthy diet and I try to help him when he asks, true, but it's not like I listen in to the radio or snoop in cases, you know?"

Wow, biggest lie had never come out of his mouth, and he had tried to hide the supernatural from his dad for a good six months. He really must like this girl if he wanted her to believe he was a good guy. 

"Aw, look at you, all cute and nice and well-behaved. You are bullshitting, aren't you?"

"Yeah."

She smiled and kissed him again. And they started their homeworks (she was very specific - she was to do hers alone, just to ask him questions on how to do some of his weird research patterns) without anyone bothering them. As a matter of fact, Stiles noted that there were very few patrons, and those that were didn't seem to be interested in lingering along. 

"Hey, do you want some pie?"

She had opened a little box where a blackberry pie sat. One from her grandma's, evidently. She had brought two forks, and they immediately tucked in. 

It was too sweet for him, he almost puked it out. He didn't say anything, of course, but did excuse himself to drink a lot of water afterwards. 

Something was odd - the librarian hadn't said anything about them eating pie in the middle of the library. 

He shook his head like he was shaking flies off him. It was stupid of him to think that - why would they care if they ate pie?

_Because it's a library, stupid_.

It didn't make sense. 

It was already dark outside. And maybe it was a trick of the light but it seemed like a lot of birds were escaping the woods. 

He just shrugged, he was with his girlfriend, and he was sure Scott could handle it. 

"You OK?"

"Yeah, just a bit dry, the pie."

"Don't tell grandma, she'll kill you."

Stiles chuckled. He looked around, expecting to be chided, but there was no one there so he decided to laugh out loud. Lorena joined him.

"What's so funny?"

"Not funny - happy. That I'm here. With you."

"Aw, Stiles, you know how to say the sweetest things."

Sweet, like the pie. 

Disgustingly sweet. He felt the sweetness in his mouth, like bile coming up.

"Babe?"

"Yeah?"

"What was in that pie?"

"Blackberry. Why?"

"Nothing, it's just - it was too sweet?"

"Oh, I'm sorry! I always ask grandma to make mine sweeter than usual because I love the taste! I should've told you."

"Nah, it's OK."

He walked towards her - she had got up and came to him, and they were in the middle of the room - where had the furniture go?

It didn't matter.

She smiled her best smile to him. He hugged her. 

She kissed him. 

He heard someone scream his name at the top of his lungs. Lydia?

It didn't matter. The world had turned black.


	2. The Sheriff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was in civilian clothes, which made him look odd in his cruiser. He had toyed with the idea of borrowing Mel's car to do this, but she needed to get home from her shift before their date tonight and he didn't want to break any patterns she may have built to feel safe.

It was unusual for him to drive up to the State Penitentiary. Seldom did he have to do visits to the inmates he had sent there, since most of them were murderers or rapists - not that there were too many in Beacon Hills, but he had captured a couple. Unlike his visit today, Gerard Argent was rotting in a family care unit, instead of rotting in a cell like he ought to. 

After what he did to Stiles. After what he did to everyone.

He was in civilian clothes, which made him look odd in his cruiser. He had toyed with the idea of borrowing Mel's car to do this, but she needed to get home from her shift before their date tonight and he didn't want to break any patterns she may have built to feel safe. 

Like she needed any protection. 

OK, he was blushing, again. He took a deep breath and steeled himself - after all, he was going to see his last kiss. 

And he hadn't told anyone about this. 

It was his day off and he had already told Stiles how he planned to spend the afternoon. The look on his kid's face when he admitted that the date was with Mel had been priceless - something between pure joy and enormous fear, and of course he had gone into one of his tirades about what food he was allowed to order and had threatened to call Scott to use the alpha voice on him and then had to back off because John was still _his_ father and therefore he shouldn't be doing that and then let the kid run to call Scott, who was probably doing something similar with his mother. 

He was pretending he did not hear them talk about getting bunk beds.

The parking space outside the penitentiary was empty, as expected - it was not a regular day for visits, but being the Sheriff of a small town had its, if few, benefits. He had called ahead and he already knew she was never visited and that their psychologist had actually encouraged it when he confirmed he would. Apparently the same psychologist that had encouraged her to write apologies which included the four page letter he had received a couple of weeks ago. She had even requested to talk to him either before or after, but he was on a tight schedule - missing your reservation at Le Maurier was very easy, since everybody wanted to pretend they knew french cuisine and would always take dates there. He had another reason - he would always take Claudia there, and she would always take him to the Black Cat. 

The place now had a special meaning for him. 

"Name?"

"John Stilinski." He handed the guard his Driver's license, which he checked against a log. He got it back.

"Please sign the digital pad here." John did. "Very well, any items that could be considered harmful must remain before this point - keys, sharp objects, etc. Please." He gave John a small plastic basin, and John put all the items indicated. He already knew the drill. "Please follow the warden. As a high-security facility all interactions will be performed via a phone line and through a safety glass. If at any point you feel threatened you can signal the warden and you'll be escorted out, no questions asked. If you have any items you wish to give to the inmate you shall provide them to the warden at the end of your visit and we will screen them before giving them to the inmate. We need to inform you that there are security cameras recording over the whole facility, and their recording can be used in case of violation of the law." John nodded and followed the officer, a pretty woman who reminded him of the Wonder Woman comics his son had stashed somewhere in his closet. She guided him through a couple of narrow corridors as well as locked doors until he found himself in a room with several window panes dividing it. He was alone, but not for long.

"Sheriff Stilinski."

Jennifer Blake looked as beautiful as ever, with the scars on her face. He couldn't help but think of the Karahalios kid back home - they were very similar marks.   
Claw marks.

"Ms. Blake."

"Please, call me Jennifer. After all, I did try to kill you - that should give us some familiarity, don't you think? To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I guess you are too far south to sense the changes going on in Beacon Hills?"

"I wish I were, Sheriff. Alas, I tied myself to the Nemeton, so I feel all the creatures driven to it, desert wanderers hoping for a drop of water from its oasis. Has that put you into trouble? Too many unexplained crimes?"

"Several. Particularly murders."

"Another darach? That would be unusual."

"Witches."

"Ah. Much more expected."

"They... they have been murdering just to try and get to the Nemeton, I think. They made this ritual in Halloween, and a lot of people ended up seeing their ghosts."

"They thinned the veil. That explains why I felt so weird during Samhain - they managed to tap into the Nemeton for that one. But something else used the Nemeton as well, because I felt a tug in the other direction - did the kids do anything?"

"No. That was the Hales."

"They did that from beyond the veil? I knew the Hales were powerful but I would've never expected that."

"It may have had something to do with the fact that they were also guardians of the woods?"

Jennifer looked at him again, curiously, like she was studying him. She smiled.

"I am so stupid. Of course the woods are alive - I thought the ley lines only fed the Nemeton, but they feed the woods as well. And woods as ancient as those of course would have evolved. But if that was the case, why didn't they defended themselves against me? Wait, they didn't have a guardian. They were adrift for a while? It's easy to see that - if the Hales had died they were either trying to reach out to Derek, who was with me, or to Peter, who is an omega, and therefore not fit to take the mantle. But now they have, haven't they? Who's their guardian? Not you - you are the Knight in Shining Armor, but that only means you protect the guardian. Is it Scott? He is a True Alpha, after all, but he's too young - too feeble yet. Not your son, he's barely a blip in the magical radar. And Lydia can't be because she's a Wailing Woman, a whole different can of worms waiting to be opened. So tell me, who is it?"

"Only if you agree to answer all my questions."

"Someone who has taught you how to deal, huh? Sure - it's not like I need to hide anything from you. I'm here, safe behind my glass walls... You first."

"The woods have a Mother now. One that you tried to offer to the Nemeton."

"Melissa McCall? Why?"

"I don't know."

"You are lying."

"I'd only answer the who, not the why."

Jennifer smiled at him, like there was an understanding between the two. 

"That's true. What do you need?"

"My son is training under Deaton to become an emissary. Scott's. Will he become like you?"

"I am an outlier in the data set, Sheriff," Jennifer kept grinning, but instead of a smirk it was more of a genuine smile, "a woman scorned bent on looking revenge and to purge the world from such an abomination as the Demon Wolf. I can assure you that as long as you keep your son on the right track, he'll keep good."

"As long as I can keep him in the right track?"

"Well, he does have a tendency to shoot first and ask questions later, doesn't he?"

She was right. He didn't tell her but she could see it in his eyes. 

"What does it mean that Melissa is the guardian of the woods?"

"Their Mother? Many things, maybe all of them, maybe none. She's connected to them now. She'll probably get very angry when they start rolling the lumberjackers. She'll feel for them, she'll be their voice. In return, they'll do her every wish, follow her every command. She's the ruler of the court. She may be under Scott's protection as a True Alpha, but now she has power of her own, and a great one to that. Does that answer your question?"

"Not really - all that I knew."

"Well, maybe you didn't ask the right question."

"This is a game for you, isn't it?"

"Be careful, Sheriff, you may run out of time - and questions."

"I said you had to answer all of them."

"But I didn't say for how long."

"What is the Nemeton?"

"Ah, good one. A sanctuary. A source of power. A lake in the middle of the desert. But just as lake has water, it also has... things underneath."

"Are those things dangerous?"

"How would I know?"

"You were the one who set it up to be awaken again."

"I intended to die."

"And leave that open for all of us?"

"I wasn't in my right mind at the moment. I'm not sure I'm in my right mind right now."

This was not going the way the Sheriff intended. He needed answers, and so far he had only gotten one - that just because Stiles was training to become an emissary didn't mean he would turn into a good one or a bad one. He was still human and capable of doing mistakes. 

He could work with that - he was still his father, after all.

"Be careful, Sheriff, I can see your thoughts all over your face. You don't want to walk around like that - you don't want your enemies knowing you."


	3. Danny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, there had been a lot of changes. He wasn't sure if they were all for the better, but at least they were not for the worse. 
> 
> Well, losing your boyfriend was, but he was not thinking about it.

He wasn't sure he understood the changes that had come into his life. He hung out with the same people, but now he was more privvy to their secrets. He would still train with his grandpa in the backyard, but instead throwing lacrosse balls now he had to learn how to play the tambourine. He had had a boyfriend and now he didn't. Now he could feel the hum of power coming from Mr. Lopside Smile and the way the woods _watched_ over him, ensuring he was not approached by anything he didn't like to.

Yeah, there had been a lot of changes. He wasn't sure if they were all for the better, but at least they were not for the worse. 

Well, losing your boyfriend was, but he was not thinking about it. 

No - what he was thinking about was the odd way Allison looked. She looked unkempt, unlike her usual - which fair, everybody had the right to have a bad day and show up to school in sweats if they wanted to - but that wasn't it. She actually looked sick, a bit too pale, and he wasn't sure but he could almost swear she had been muttering during the three classes that they shared, and not about what was going on in the blackboard. 

He may not be pack, but he wanted to think that he had hung out with them long enough to detect those kind of changes. And the one he was seeing right now? Not for the better.

"Allison, you OK?"

"Huh?"

Isaac had sat down next to her and tried to comfort her - Danny could see they were holding hands. Scott was on her other side, just close enough to provide physical heat without interrupting the moment the other two had. 

"I just asked if you were OK."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm just - it's stupid, my dad gave me this notebook with some of my mom old stuff and it had a Math problem and now all I can do is think about it. It's the only one without an answer - I guess that's why I'm getting obsessed with it or something."

"Do you want any help?" Danny offered - he was good at math. Not as good as Lydia, but decent. 

"No. This - this is something I have to do. On my own."

"Sure."

Danny saw the worried look Scott cast towards her but didn't say anything. To be honest, Danny didn't know what to make out of it. 

Lydia and Stiles sat on both of his sides, still discussing whatever lead on their with problem they had. Which was none. 

"No, please, Lydia, I'm just skipping research today. Just today! I'll do twice as much tomorrow."

"Give me a good reason."

"Can't you just take my word that it is important?"

"Hm... no."

"Scott - tell her to let me out of it today."

"No. You tell her why you are not going."

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"Stiles, unless it's a date I will see you after school."

Scott smirked and Danny remembered the girl he had seen Stiles with - what was her name? Lorena?

"It's a date? Why didn't you tell me?" Each of Lydia's words in her last question where accompanied by punches in Stiles arm _across Danny_ who just leaned back to give the girl more space. "I haven't chosen an outfit for you, are you going to go looking like that?"

"It's in the library, alright? I didn't tell you because I am going to be doing research with her - it's helping her with her homework, nothing magic - and I didn't want to look like, you know, I was bailing on you or something."

"Oh, you are totally bailing on me, Stiles Stilinski, but at least is for a good reason! But next time you tell me!"

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!"

"So you OK with it?" Scott seemed he wanted to grin at the scene, but a quick glance at Allison made the smile stop dead in its tracks. "I'm gonna be patrolling tonight - trying to make sure nothing happens so Mom and the Sheriff can have their date." It was obvious he wanted to say Isaac would be with Allison since the girl was definitely not OK, but nobody wanted to press on that. "Unless you need some help?"

"I'll help," Danny blurted out without really thinking, "I mean, it's just research, right? We are not gonna be summoning anything during that time?"

"Dear god, no - not with my grandma in the house, she'll start calling whatever the hell is her court and I don't want to think about that."

"Is she helping you, though, with being a banshee?" Isaac's curiosity had perked up even if he didn't stop looking at Allison who kept writing more and more stuff in her notebook. At least she acknowledged Isaac, smiling when he caressed her or tried to play with her hair. 

"Not exactly. She keeps saying that I should embrace it and yeah, I've been trying to do that, but it's not like I want to start screaming someone drops dead. She keeps saying that I will only wail when the death is related to my Pack" Danny noticed that everyone, even Allison, smiled at the word and for a moment he felt outside again, "but that it shouldn't surprise me that since you are the guardians of the Nemeton there will be a lot of deaths related to this particular Pack. Also, she keeps insisting on taking me to the woods _barefoot_ and I won't do that, oh no. We'll keep to the books, thank you." Danny nodded and she changed the subject to Stiles' date which included never ending questions from Lydia and actually Danny found himself interested in the conversation, but he kept looking sideways at the three across the table, and more particularly, at Allison. 

His grandfather had told him that moonlight would always reveal the truth. So he closed his eyes and summoned moonlight - he already did that instinctually in the lacrosse field, but now he needed it to be a bit more specific. 

Yeah, there it was - a shadow that didn't belong to Allison coming from her. He shivered, reminded of a very specific monster from a very specific British TV show, and texted Scott about it. The alpha got his message and cocked his head, curious, but replied assuring him that he'd order Isaac not to leave her side today and asking him to look into it during his research with Lydia. He nodded. Thankfully the exchange had gone unnoticed. 

They finished their school day. Allison took Isaac with her, and Scott left in his dirt bike while Stiles did in his jeep. Lydia had come with Stiles this morning so it meant he'd be driving the both of them to her house. Before getting in, Lydia shivered, like a wind chill had gone through. He hadn't felt anything. 

"Lydia, you alright?"

"Yeah, just a shiver - don't worry. Shall we?"

They got in and started driving. 

"Have you heard from him?"

Danny didn't need to ask who _he_ was.

"No. He stopped replying my emails a couple of weeks after he left. I will probably not even get a Christmas card from him - not that I am really sure I want it anymore. Do you know why he left? It wasn't just because he turned into a werewolf, right? I mean, I don't know how he got the bite in the middle of the lacrosse game but..."

"That's not how it happened."

"Huh?"

"You didn't know? God, I assumed that you knew everything supernatural going on..."

"Lydia, I can only see some stuff. Werewolves, sure, since they are creatures of the moon, but I didn't know you were a banshee. What, why?"

"Jackson was a kanima."

"What's a kanima?"

By the time Lydia finished explaining everything that had happened Danny wished he hadn't asked. 

"So he left because he felt guilty?"

"I'd say it was several factors, including Mr. Whittemore, but yeah - he did kill a bunch of people."

"But he wasn't himself. I knew he wasn't himself, but I didn't - I never thought it was magic or anything! Damn - I should've helped him!"

"Danny, stop - you couldn't have. We didn't - it wasn't until I was able to tell him that I loved him that he finally stopped being a lizard but then the whole guilt trip happened and he broke up with me _again_ and he left. And we haven't spoken since."

"I'm sorry."

"No, it's OK. I have you now. The Pack, and you."

Danny smiled, thanking her in his mind for still making the distinction. 

He wasn't so sure it would be bad if he ended up with them. They didn't kill, they didn't maim, they hadn't even held court yet - although apparently Melissa had with his parents as well as Lydia's family - but he still didn't know anything of them in combat. He didn't know how to feel about it - he was their friend, but they would always be closer together than he would ever hope. 

Still, the stories of slavery and manipulation echoed in the back of his mind. 

And suddenly in the fore of it, since Lydia's grandmother looked at him like she was _hungry_.

"Lydia, darling, you should've told me you brought a present for the court!"

"What?"

"A moonsinger! Our queen will be pleased!"

They were still outside - they had barely got out of the car but Mrs. Savant had apparently been waiting for them in the porch - so Danny stepped back, considering getting into his car and bolting. Before he could do so, Mrs. Savant had almost reached him _hunger in her eyes_ that scared him so much he didn't know what to do. 

The magpie flew out of nowhere and started raking at her face. 

"Grandma!"

As soon as she stepped back the magpie retreated and set on Danny's shoulder. Danny could barely move, because that meant that Lydia's grandmother meant him harm in such a way that the woods had to intervene. 

"You are marked. The Mistress of the Woods, she's claimed you."

He didn't answer. He knew that there was no correct answer to that.

"Grandma, stop it. I'm gonna grab some books and come back out - we'll go to Starbucks, is that OK Danny?" He just nodded, not taking his eyes from the woman. "Grandma, come with me."

Mrs. Savant looked offended but somehow Lydia's gesture managed to convince her to leave him alone. The magpie started cleaning its feathers without letting go of him. He could swear at some point it cawed at him, like saying he shouldn't worry. Danny wasn't sure his eyebrows were still attached to his face, so far up they had gone. 

Lydia came out with some books and a laptop that he recognized as one of the modded ones. He still needed to discuss how she had built her whole environment. 

"We may need some of your hacking skills - I've managed to track some papers but they are behind paywalls."

"Easy peasy - wanna go to my place? It would make it easier instead of using a public connection."

"Sure. And I'm sorry."

"Don't worry. You didn't know."

"My mom is giving her an earful. But I keep hearing 'Queen' here and 'Queen' there and I'm starting to get scared."

"Fae?"

"I think. She won't say much - she says that everything due its time. At least she does seem to know about banshees enough to calm some of my nerves. She says that as long as I am willing to accept it, the banshee won't fight me, but instead will let me know where the dead is so I can rush - if not to help, to mourn."

"How are the deaths related to the Pack?"

"They have a purpose against it. Even Jennifer's killings were with the purpose of giving her power to destroy the Pack. At least, that's what my grandma and I have been able to work out."

"Man, that sucks."

"A lot. It makes me feel even more guilty, and I didn't think that would be possible."

The subject of their talk had turned so bleak they didn't say anything else until they reached his house. His mother was much more welcoming than Lydia's grandmother, and prepared them some snacks that proceeded to be devoured by the magpie that had evidently followed them to his house and snuck inside through a window (or at least he hoped). The bird hopped from table to dresser and back depending on how interesting the food or the research seemed to be, but they kept circling the same subjects over and over. 

What is the Nemeton.

Why are the witches so interested in it.

How to smoke witches out.

How to trace a spell. 

What to do in case of Ritual Sacrifice. 

It was pointless.

The sun had come down before he gave up.

"Lydia, I'm sorry to say this but you are nowhere near to be able to detect who is after this. Have you seen the amount of people who have just moved in to Beacon Hills?"

He expected her to snap at him - Lydia Martin never gave up on a subject - but this time she just sighed and let herself show defeated. Broken. 

"I know. We are sitting ducks here Danny. We haven't done anything to stop them. We've found out more about Alex than about the witches that are actually trying to kill us. They know how to hide their tracks. They know we would be looking for info on them, so they are hiding correctly. We know nothing - and I feel they know everything about us. Like they... shit!" She went for her cellphone and started to call someone immediately. "Scott! I need you to find Peter. I KNOW HE IS NOT PACK! TRACK HIM BY SMELL!" She hung up and looked at Danny. "Someone on the inside. Of course Peter Hale would go to them if it would give him some benefit - he may be after Scott's Alpha power. Why didn't I think of it before?"

"Peter Hale? The wolf that bit Scott originally?"

"And that used me to come back to the realm of the living, yes - if he's been helping them of course it makes sense that they know how to avoid us! Goddamn it!"

In that exact moment the magpie started to caw incessantly, like it was distressed. It escaped through the window, and when Danny tried to go after it and close it he saw the outline of the woods change, like something had been done to them. 

"Oh god."

"Lydia?"

"Oh God!"

"Lydia, let it in. Remember what your grandmother said - don't fight it!"

He wasn't looking at her - he was looking at the clouds forming over the woods, dark and majestic. And how the bark of some of the trees was turning black. 

_Poison._

"Lydia"

"They are still alive - whoever it is they are still alive - I can feel the Banshee pulling me towards them."

"They are in the woods, aren't they?"

"Yes..."

"Alright. Let me grab my staff - I'm afraid we'll need it. Call Mrs. McCall."


	4. John

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No, the man John Stilinski was looking at may be only sixteen, but he was exuding power, even if he still smiled that goofy smile that Stiles had once tried to measure its ability to melt old grannys' hearts and make them give them cookies. For science, he had called it. You're grounded, John had called it, after he seen the monstrous amount of cookies they had obtained.

He still felt her eyes looking at her, piercing his soul, when he unlocked the door to his house. He was glad Stiles was not home - he didn't want to be seen like this. 

If this had happened when Claudia died he would go straight to the Jack bottle and down a tumbler or two. Instead he went to his room and grabbed Claudia's photograph, where she smiled with her brown hair and golden eyes - Stiles looked so much like her every once in a while it hurt him - and let himself get lost in her smile until he could breathe steady again. At some point would Stiles come in and hug him but that had been when the boy was barely ten years old and still reeling from her death. Now it was just him, and he needed to look his Sunday best. 

He picked some flowers for Mel - old Mrs. Josie gave him a wicked smile and didn't charge for them - and he rang the McCall doorbell.

"Scott."

"Sheriff."

A part of him wanted to cock his head? Show his neck? Proof to his alpha that he was here in good faith?

"Scott, why do I feel like I need to show you my neck?"

"Er, it's the wolf. It doesn't like that you are standing in an authority posture and it probably doesn't like that you have are carrying a gun."

"I'm wearing my fitted jacket."

"Sheriff, werewolf."

"Do I have to?"

"What?"

"Bare my neck?"

"I... yes? I don't know. I mean, I know you mean no threat, even the wolf knows it, it's just that..."

John just rolled his eyes and tilted his head a little bit. It wasn't even that much but it was good enough to satisfy the alpha who just stepped aside and let him in.

"I'm still your best friend's father, you know? And I am carrying a fire arm."

"Sir, you are still the only father figure I've ever had. Let's call it a compromise?"

"A compromise," John harrumphed. "Does your mother do this too?"

"I don't know? I haven't checked."

"Do you get the feeling we know less and less about your abilities the longer you have them?"

"Yeah, pretty much. Stiles would have been all over it right now, you know?"

"Binging on research."

"Yeah - well, he's done it, research. And Lydia! But apparently there are no documented cases of True Alphas. I'm literally a rarity. Not even Karahalios in his supposed twenty five hundred years had seen one. Just heard of them."

"But the question is if this is an alpha thing, or a true alpha thing. You know what? No, we are not going to talk about it. It doesn't matter. Is your mother going to take long?"

"Probably just a couple more minutes. Want to sit down? Want something to drink?"

"Water, please?"

Scott went to the kitchen and came back with two glasses full of the liquid. He sat down in the sofa and they just let the silence fill the room. 

"Isn't this the part where you threaten me to treat your mother well, bring her home in one piece and before midnight?"

"Do I have to?"

"I don't know cowboy, what do you think?"

Scott laughed at the joke and John with him. He wondered about the kid, the same way he had been wondering about his son. About the darkness they supposedly carried. It was true that Scott no longer projected that innocence he used to have, that little ray of sunshine that made you believe nothing would go wrong with your day. No, the man John Stilinski was looking at may be only sixteen, but he was exuding power, even if he still smiled that goofy smile that Stiles had once tried to measure its ability to melt old grannies' hearts and make them give them cookies. For science, he had called it. You're grounded, John had called it, after he seen the monstrous amount of cookies they had obtained. 

"You mean well, don't you, Sheriff? You remember my father, and how he broke her heart, don't you?"

"I do. I remember more than you do." Scott raised his head at the comment. "Kiddo, it's no secret that they tried to keep you out of it. At the beginning, at least." Scott's head fell again, understanding. He could see a tear forming on his eye. "Scott, we've had this conversation before. It was not your fault."

"I know, Sheriff. I know."

John knew he didn't believe him. 

"Please, promise me you'll treat her right. That you'll be a gentleman to her."

"For your mother I'll be a knight."

He didn't knew where the wording came from but he knew it true. Scott smiled that goofy smile again, any trace of tears gone from his face and actually attacked him with a hug. John let himself be hugged, let the kid rub himself against his neck, let the alpha of this pack that he belonged to share a bit of his happiness with him. 

"Hey! I thought I was the one to get hugged this evening!"

John couldn't help but gasp as his breath was taken away by the way Mel looked. Le Maurier was known to be an expensive restaurant and people dressed up for it but Mel had taken it up to eleven. She was in a sensible blue dress, beautiful heels and something he had never seen before, flowers in her hair. 

"Mom! I didn't know you could do your hair like that!"

"I didn't either. The flowers were at my windowsill and I just wove them through my hair. What do you think?"

"You look beautiful, mom." And Scott went and hugged her and John couldn't help but feel awed at the picture. 

The Risen King and his Mother. 

"Melissa."

"John."

He gave her the flowers shyly - they looked so small and wilted next to her - and she took them with that smile that was lightening up the room. She excused herself to put them in a vase.

"Treat her like the lady she is, Sheriff."

"She's a Queen, your Mother, and of course I'll treat her the way she deserves."

Scott smiled at him and saw them leave together, all the way until he opened the car and let Melissa in. The drive to the French restaurant was done in laughs at small jokes and memories of happy times. Of embarassing times. Of getting their children out of trouble times. 

"Reservation under Stilinski, for two."

"Right this way." They were seated in one of the best tables, where the sunset could be seen without creating a glare and as their date progressed, the moonlight started shining through. 

It was so easy for them to talk, John wondered if he shouldn't have done this earlier. Maybe if he hadn't been so hung up on the memory of Claudia he could've seen how Melissa had wormed her way into Stiles' life the same way Scott had wormed into his. Maybe he could've seen those beautiful brown eyes that always managed to get the truth out of their children. Maybe he would've seen the woman that was talking to him tonight instead of Scott's mother, and he could've let himself love again. 

He knew he was feeling something in his stomach talking to her. Butterflies. 

For someone so old he was feeling like a teenager again. 

"Sheriff Stilinski?"

A tall woman, blonde, stopped at their table. He vaguely remembered her from a day at the station. She had come with snacks?

"Sabrina Warren, we just moved here some months ago and my mother insisted in introducing ourselves?"

"Ah, yes. Sorry, I see too many faces a day to keep them all in check. Ms. Wareen, this is Melissa McCall."

"A pleasure. Don't let me interrupt you - I just wanted to make sure you get one of the pies for dessert. I'll make sure the host gives it as a complimentary treat."

"Why would you do that?"

"My family just closed a deal with the restaurant, we provide the pies, and I would like for you to have one on me. To crown your date. Please."

"Alright - I'll probably regret it in the morning, but what the heck, let's have one pie for the two of us. What do you recommend?"

"Oh, please, let it be a surprise for you. Sheriff, Ms. McCall."

The woman walked away and certainly, after they were done with their dishes (he had ordered Coq au vin, the only thing he knew didn't have snails or something weird in it, Mel had ordered Boullabaise) a big slice of strawberry pie had showed up, in a white platter that had strawberry syrup adorning it in a beautiful pattern, cream on top and a tea light closing the ensemble. 

"Oh, gosh, this is beautiful!"

"Not compared to you."

Mel blushed. He just smiled at her. He let her have the first bite. 

"Oh wow, this is glorious, you need to try it."

"Stiles will kill me if he finds out I had strawberry pie."

"And who's gonna tell him?"

"I'm not so sure Scott has stopped sniffing me."

"I'm his mother, I'll tell him to stop." She went for a second bite. "No, seriously John, you have to try this."

He relented and grabbed the fork. But as soon as he took a piece of it, he remembered the day he had met the Warrens - it had been the day they found the body in the mall dumpsters. 

The Warrens had given him food that day - they had fed the whole station, as a matter of fact, with those meat empanadas. 

And he remembered how Lydia had flat out refused it.

"What's wrong?"

He looked up at Mel, questions in her face. Some of the flowers in her hair had started to wilt. 

"Mel, don't eat it."

"What, why?"

She started coughing. 

"I guess the pie was too dry - but it didn't feel like it when I ate it."

"Mel, I believe the pie was poisoned."

"What?"

The coughing increased, and at some point blood started to stain the mantlepiece. The flowers were all but dead now, and a cacophony of animals could be heard in the distance. 

They wanted to poison Mel specifically. They wanted to poison _the woods_.

"Mel? Mel! Help! Someone help me, please!"

Nobody turned to him. Nobody paid attention. The animals' cries increased in their strength. 

"John, the woods, they're hurt."

"They're hurt because you are hurt - SOMEONE HELP ME, PLEASE!"

He scanned the room with his eyes while getting his cellphone out - he could call 911 - but then he saw the woman smiling at him. He bolted after her.

"You, you did this."

"Yes, Sheriff. You never ate our pies, did you? We would have you if you did. I wonder if she did and the woods cleansed her or if she never ate them as well."

"What? You - you've given your pies to everyone in this town?"

"Of course. That way the Nemeton guardians would never have any help."

"That's it, I'm arresting you."

She laughed. But it was not a laugh that brought joy - it was a laugh that brought despair. 

"Under what charges? With what deputies? To take me to what judge?"

He still charged after her but she flicked her wrist and he found himself flying across the room, landing on top of his table, Mel clutching her stomach and falling to her knees, puking. He took out his gun and shot the witch, but she managed to stop the bullets mid air, and then they fell to the floor. 

They could've been invisible for all the attention they were getting. 

"As much as I would like to teach you a lesson, Sheriff, I need to attend other businesses. Have a nice evening!"

Laughing again, laughing more, laughing cruelly she walked out. He turned to Mel who seemed to be losing not just blood but energy. He grabbed her and ran to his car, where he put her carefully. 

He called 911 - but every time the call connected the person at the other end of the line didn't listen to him. 

He called the station but it seemed as if there was nobody there. 

They reached the hospital but it was like they were in a parallel dimension. 

In a fit of desperation, he went to the McCall residence. Stiles had done something - he hoped it was enough. 

In the passenger seat, Mel was unconscious, her body shaking slightly. He tilted her head so she wouldn't choke on her blood.


	5. Lydia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackson had been an abomination once. She couldn't afford to walk away.

The woods felt different. 

Not that she was too familiar with them, but they did. Walking through them felt alien, like cold snapping around her, like a stench rising from the dirt. 

The way she had felt in Halloween. 

The witches. Again. 

The trees looked _sick_. The bark looked discolored. The leaves looked musty. Not an animal could be heard. 

She tried Mrs. McCall cellphone again. Again straight to voicemail. 

She tried Scott.

"Lydia?"

"Scott, something's wrong - tell me you found Peter."

"No - I can't find him, nowhere in town can I track his scent. Where are you?"

"The woods. The banshee is pulling me in, but the woods are different. Your mother is not answering her phone."

"She's on her date - she's probably not paying attention to it."

"Get her. Get her, please."

"Sure - I will - Allison!"

The way her alpha's voice had sounded, so strained, like he had received a punch in the stomach made her eyes open wide.

"What is it? What's happened?"

"I don't know, I just feel that Allison is in danger."

"What about Isaac?"

"I can't feel him."

"Go get them! And keep trying your mother, please!"

She hung up. Danny was next to her, worried.

Something was amiss. But the Banshee made her keep walking. 

"Lydia? Are we going...?"

"To the Hale manor, yes."

"What are we going to find there? Who are we going to find there?"

"I don't know."

_And that scares me_.

She started seeing things that were not there before. Spiders. Ants. Bats. The creatures of the woods that liked to rest at day and wander at night, now were there. She knew they weren't evil - they just _were_ , but them showing to her meant something. 

She called Mrs. McCall one more time.

Again, nothing. 

"Woods! Where is your Mother? Why isn't she answering my summons?"

"Lydia?"

She hadn't heard them before, but Isaac had. She hoped they would talk to her. 

'Our Queen.'

She immediately heard it - they were _sick_.

'An abomination, in our midst.'

'Your Highness, please leave - you are not to walk through us like this.'

'We won't dishonor you with our sickness.'

"Lydia, are you hearing them too?"

"Yes."

"This is fucked up."

"How did they harm you?"

'Mother. She's been attacked.'

"Mrs. McCall!"

Danny tried calling again. Lydia kept her attention to the woods. 

"What abomination are you talking about? Where?"

But she knew. She already knew. 

She started running towards the Hale Manor, and Danny scampered behind her. They knew the woods were reclaiming the clearing but she hadn't expected to the see the remnants of the place to be covered with saplings and leaves. 

She hadn't expected the _stench_.

So this is where the witches had cast their spell to poison the woods. And the poor innocent that was dying inside - maybe she could still save him. 

'The abomination, he's inside.'

'He's been hurt.'

'He'll die.'

Jackson had been an abomination once. She couldn't afford to walk away. 

She saw the youngest of the oaks in the middle of the house, splattered with blood. She crouched to it and somehow she felt it cry, scared of what had been done to it. Like a puppy that had been beaten for the first time. Danny touched her shoulder and when she blew air on it their magic combined dissolved the blood on it. Immediately the woods felt better. They had been blessed by the Sidhe.

"Why are they so violent?"

"They are seething. They've been attacked - they need to attack back. They need to protect their Mother."

"You think Mrs. McCall is hurt?"

"I know she is."

She heard him first, then saw him crucified to the wall, blood dripping from several wounds inflicted with the oddly placed barbed wire. She knew the wounds were twenty and one and all of them painful - she could feel them in her skin, eating her alive. She let them pierce her just so they would stop bothering her as soon as they would start. 

The man in the wall smiled his sickly smirk, even if the movement made him cough blood that fell onto her dress. She wanted to cry. 

No, not cry. She was not a weak little girl anymore. 

"Lydia. I knew you would come for me."

"Are you still in my head? Are you still eating me up inside?" The thought of it scared her much more than anything else.

"I would never eat you again my dear - once was all you needed to wake up, and while I may no longer have a claim on you this is an affront to the McCall pack - your pack. You were bound to find me anyways. And it seems that you are learning your powers, otherwise you wouldn't be here until the last drop of my blood had abandoned my body."

"You are a sacrifice, aren't you?"

"And you are...?"

"I can see the magic all over you, oozing like dense fog all black and acrid."

"A moonsinger? I didn't know the woods were housing your kind."

"We stayed away from the Hales for very good reasons."

"You feared we would use you?"

"We knew you would."

Peter laughed and coughed blood and his body spasmed. The barbed wire moved not a fraction of an inch. 

"The damage is done," Danny was looking at him critically, like he was a science project for Harris, "since a werewolf's blood is much more powerful than a human's. This is just icing on the cake for them, torturing you until you die."

"Well, I did try to stop them. I care for you after all."

"Lie." Lydia didn't need werewolf powers to know it. "You tried to stop them because it was against your best interests. What did they offer you and then took away from you? Was it power? Was it magic? Was it Scott's position in our pack?"

He grimaced at her. He had spent a sweet time in her head once. That meant that she knew him too well for either of their liking.

"Yes. They offered me Scott's power if I helped them. So I did, but I was obviously played. Help me - it is after all in my best interests to help you now."

She didn't know what to say. She didn't want to help him - she wanted to let him die. But she knew that doing so meant the spell would work. 

Her cellphone rang.

"Mrs. McCall!"

"No, Lydia, this is the Sheriff - thank god you picked up, no one did - listen, the woods have been poisoned - the witches got to us and fed Mel a poisoned pie, she started coughing up blood. I wanted to take her to the hospital but the whole town is enchanted - they were bewitched not to see or hear us. I came to the Pack house and as soon as I closed the door she stopped convulsing, but she's still unconscious, I think it is whatever magic Stiles did one that time -"

"Yes, I know what you mean - did you get to see the witches? Do we know who they are?"

"I think so - I recognized Sabrina Warren, the woman who opened the Art Gallery a couple of days ago, and she said some things..."

"Sabrina Warren?"

Danny looked at her. They both said at the same time.

"Stiles!"

"What? Where's my son?"

"On a date with Lorena Warren."

"Shit! Of course he had to - I can't leave Mel alone!"

"Don't - we'll get him. Try to call Scott. And get Deaton - we need someone to help us with Mrs. McCall!"

"OK."

She hung up and looked at Peter. He finally looked remorseful, but she knew he knew how to put on a mask. 

She wanted to kill him, she wanted to let him die. 

But she needed to break the spell. 

"Danny, help me bring him down."

He used his staff to loosen as much of Peter as he could, and the body of the werewolf fell onto the floor. She didn't know what else to do to break the spell but to kill him, but she wasn't sure. 

"Don't. If you kill me you kill the woods. They are using my blood to poison it, the more blood spilled the more damage they feel."

She yelled in frustration.

'An abomination, your Highness.'

"Maybe a little bit of moonlight could help me."

"Danny, don't."

"Wasn't going to."

"So, you are going to let me die? Kill the woods, kill Melissa, help the witches capture your pack?"

"What do they want, Peter?"

"The Nemeton. Its guardians."

"Lydia, we need to go help Stiles."

Lydia felt the banshee inside her, ready to wail - ready to pronounce him dead. But no - she wouldn't let him go so easily. She wanted him to suffer, and she tried to tell the Banshee that. 

But they were not separate entities. They were one and the same. And finally Lydia understood. 

She went and put her hand in his face and willed the wail to go into him. Once he had bound himself to her when he bit her, hoping to gain a banshee for his pack. Twice he had bound himself to her when he had used her to come back. 

Thrice she was binding him to her so he wouldn't die. Not without her permission. 

He's the one who screamed. He's the one who _wailed_.

"Peter Hale, you are mine."

He was still hurt, but at least now he wouldn't die without permission. She turned around and left the manor, Danny following her. 

The mongrel could stay there and freeze to death for all he could do now. It would be an interesting punishment.


	6. Scott

Scott smiled when he saw his mother. He had just hung up with Isaac - he was to stay with Allison all the time and try to figure out what was wrong with her. She was not behaving like herself, and that was freaking him out. 

But he couldn't let his mother know that.

"So you confirmed with the Sheriff and everything?"

"Yes, Scott - he's probably already back from his business and he'll pick me up at six and we'll go to Le Maurier," she laughed at his disgust face, he wasn't very fond of French food, "and then we'll go to a movie. Easy, simple, nothing to worry about. I'm telling you, you don't need to be out and about patrolling or whatever you want to call it."

"I just don't want anything ruining it."

"I know, and I thank you for it. But we can't live our lives like this, waiting for the sword of Damocles to drop every moment." He saw that she smiled sadly, and he felt the need to hug her. He did. "Oh, bucko!" All he got was to make her cry. "My baby boy. My sweet baby boy. Why did this had to happen to us?"

"I don't know, Mom, and I'm scared."

"I know. Me too. Me too. Will you stay, until John picks me up?"

He nodded. She kissed his forehead and wiped the tears from his face - he hadn't realized he was crying too - and went upstairs. 

It's true - he was afraid. They had nothing on these witches. _Nothing_. And then there was the enigma that was Alex, even if he had sworn not to interfere. All the times before they knew things, maybe little things, that allowed them to put the pieces together - like Stiles finding out about the sacrifices, or Gerard being so openly blatant about his attacks they didn't need to look anywhere else. But now? Nothing. 

He still didn't understand why they wanted it so much, the Nemeton. To him it was a burden - a weight in his chest, a clamp in his heart, reminding him that there was power inside the woods and it was his duty to protect it. He didn't want it. He hadn't wanted it - he had only wanted to see his mother safe. To see his Pack safe. 

A True Alpha. He didn't even know what that meant. Deucalion had told him that it was that _he cared_ what had made him so valuable. But it only meant more on his shoulders. He didn't mind - not at all, since most of the problems were his fault anyways but he wondered. What if they hadn't gone to the woods. What if for once he hadn't listened to Stiles. 

No, he would've never done that. Stiles was his brother, and he would always be with him, side by side. 

Probably more for real now that their parents were _finally_ dating. 

He saw one of the pictures on the counter, of him and Stiles smiling goofily in their lacrosse gear. Back when he was a benchwarmer. Back when he was no one. 

A memory of that night came back and he fought real hard to supress it. When he had thought of killing himself.   
Witches. He needed to focus. What did he know?

_Nothing_. 

He opened the notebook where he had written everything down. They were after the Nemeton. They had got to Beacon Hills right after the Nemeton woke up. They were willing to do whatever they needed to do to rip the Nemeton from their hands. 

He didn't know if they would attack tonight, but at least he knew he ought to be looking for smells out of place. 

He opened the door after the bell rang to find the Sheriff with a bouquet of flowers at the door. He let him in, smiling. Got assurance from him that he'd treat his mother like the lady she was (not that he ever doubted it) and saw the two of them leave for the restaurant. The awkward conversation need not to be recalled.

He was putting on his helmet when his cellphone rang. Lydia. 

"Hey Lydia, what's up?"

"Scott! I need you to find Peter."

"How? Why? You know he's not pack."

"I KNOW HE IS NOT PACK! TRACK HIM BY SMELL!"

She hung up. And it clicked inside his head. 

The witches knew too much about them. They needed someone who knew them so well. 

_Peter_. 

He did something the Sheriff would later admonish him for and get his mother to ground him. He rode the bike without his helmet. He needed to be able to smell. 

He gave one round to the city and found nothing. He went to Derek's loft, and to Peter's old apartment, but nothing. He tried to think of other places where he could be, and nothing. He did another round - he even stopped near the Le Maurier, since he knew Peter still harbored something for his mother - obsession? - but he wasn't there. He went back home, left the bike, and headed to the woods, running. Letting the wolf check for him. 

Nothing. 

Not just that, but the woods started to feel... _chilly_. And a smell started to come from them. It was distracting. 

His phone rang again. Lydia telling him that something was wrong in the woods. He could tell. But his mother was having her dinner date, and he would not get her out of it. 

Suddenly, it didn't matter - Allison was hurt. He felt it in the bond. 

She was in the forest. He couldn't feel Isaac near her. He couldn't feel Isaac at all. 

So he let the bond guide him. And sure enough, he started to smell Allison's scent in the woods, driving her to where she was. 

She wasn't there.

"What?"

He had reached the origin of the smell, but it was not Allison. It was a scarecrow, a dummy that had some of her clothes, yes, but it smelled so much like her and he felt bonded to it like her and the wolf was snarling and howling and demanding answers. _Where was Allison?_ He got close to it, eyes in red, looking for wires to trip, for traps to set, for something to tell him that this was a trap and he had fallen square to it. 

What he found was a sack of herbs at the feet of the doll. That was what smelled and felt like Allison, that was what was imbuing the doll with her essence. That was what had drawn him to it. 

"Allison, where are you?"

The answer he got was a gunshot. 

He dodged and turned, trying to find the source. He couldn't see anything - the woods were getting darker and darker, and not even his werewolf senses seem to be able to pierce this dark. 

He ran. 

He could hear more gunshots, and he knew he was being herded. _Hunters_. He did not need hunters right now. 

He triggered one of those high frequency stakes, and that made him stop for a second. Enough for the hunter to reach his field of vision. 

_Chris_.

"Mr. Argent?"

But Scott immediately knew something was off. The way he walked. The way he shot. The way his eyes were on him. Unfocused. Glassy. 

He tried his alpha voice on him. It didn't do anything but to draw the laugh of someone else. An old woman who was walking behind him. 

"Oh, boy, don't try - he's mine. So you are the true alpha everybody's talking about. Yes, yes, you stink of power, it's good that I didn't let Peter kill you - he would've been disastrous with it," she turned to Chris and caressed his cheek, but he didn't react, like he was a mannequin, a doll, a zombie, "fetch him."

Chris shot again but Scott was already running. He could hear her laugh, he could hear her taunting him. He tried to touch the woods, to reach his mother through them - she could reach the rest of the pack.

"Oh, no, my boy, that's not going to work! See, I poisoned these woods - I already knew they swore fealty to you so I could not take my chances of you using them against us!"

The woods were dead to him - they wouldn't respond to his touch, or cry for his mother. For their Mother. 

If they poisoned the woods they had gotten to _her_.

The wolf in him _howled_.

"Yes, yes, we can hear you. No one else can, though. So keep howling, little mutt, it'll just make it easier for us to catch you!"

The alpha snarled in anger. They were not to harm his pack and they were not to harm his _mother_.

He stopped and smelled - there was a witch waiting for him to his left, and another one to his right. Herding. Scott made the decision they wouldn't expect - he went up. But the trees were wrong and even when he managed to climb he still couldn't try to leap from one to the other. At least he had a view now. 

And quickly those two women appeared.

"Where is he, I thought you where directing him to me?"

"I lost him for a second - he can't be far!"

He immediately dropped onto one of them, knocking her unconscious, while he was already kicking the other one out of his way to keep running.

"Don't let him get away!"

He felt the mountain ash closing around him, and saw the woman he had kicked out smile in triumph. This time he didn't even think about it - he just punched through the barrier and dispelled it, earning a glance of true horror from her. He heard the steady steps of Chris Argent and he knew he was going to be shot. He grabbed the woman by the front of her jacket and spun her. He felt the blood coming out of her mouth as the bullets entered her back. 

He felt sick. Someone had died because of him. 

He dropped her and kept running. 

"Alia! You'll pay for that, mongrel!"

He kept running, but the woods were feeling the same. He was trapped in a loop. He needed to fight. 

He hid behind a trunk and waited for them to come back. So far he knew of the two women and Chris Argent. And the smell of the old witch, it was too close to that of -

"Lorena."

"Yes, mutt, she's my granddaughter, and right now? She's with your friend and you know what that means? That I already got two of the three guardians of the Nemeton."

"Allison?"

"She was the first to fall, thanks to her father here! We just had to go pick her up, it was very easy to trap that puppy of yours!"

Isaac. Isaac was trapped.

Scott saw red. The wolf took over. 

He went and attacked Chris Argent. It had been so fast the man - the zombie - couldn't take his gun up. Scott scratched his face.

And felt his own rip apart. 

The wolf stepped back in confusion, but attacked the hunter before he could stand up and attack him. He clawed through his stomach, enough to injure but not deadly enough. 

He felt his own innards shred under the claws. 

"Oh, yes, please, keep doing it."

He heard the crone laugh at him. The wolf attacked Chris again and again, but the hunter remained motionless, unhurt, while Scott kept bleeding over the fallen leaves. 

Scott suddenly realized his claws were entrenched in his own body, mauling. The wolf kept attacking, panicked, and Scott could not stop it from hurting him. From hurting _himself_.

"Bind him, Christopher, use the wolfsbane ropes."

The poisoned woods heard the cry of the wolf, a shrill lament that carried through the night they died.


	7. Isaac

Isaac fumbled with the keys wordlessly as Allison opened the passenger seat and let herself in.

This was wrong. Something was seriously wrong. 

She had just asked and he thought she was joking. Not that is was wrong to ask someone to drive you home when you are so close to solve a problem in your head and could do without the distraction. But this was not Allison, who could barely let herself give up a piece of paper with notes on it. Allison, who always took care of every single movement she did, who checked her weapons every single time and wouldn't even think of letting someone else drive her Mazda out of the sheer impotence it gave her not to be the one to drive it. She was after all the one who knew how to drive it in a way that could cause maximum damage. 

Even if Isaac wanted to see it just as a gesture of trust between them, it didn't ring true. It rang _wrong_.

He bit his lip and tried to look at Scott, but he was already putting on his helmet, completely engrossed in a talk with Stiles. They were probably discussing Melissa and the Sheriff's date and how Scott was going to patrol the city just to prevent any sort of problem tonight. The wolf whined a little - he was supposed to help, but Scott had been very clear that Allison's state was more worrisome and they shouldn't leave her alone. Besides, his human side knew Scott trusted him with the life of another member of the pack, and that meant something. 

So he got in and started driving. Allison didn't even look up when he did. 

He tried smelling her - fear, anger, hesitancy. Nothing. Just a faint smell of something sickeningly sweet, like molasses, but that was from the notebook, not from Allison herself. 

They drove in silence. Rather, he did. Allison kept muttering to herself - apparently the little stroke of genius she had at the parking lot turned out to be wrong and she was backtracking some of her calculations. 

He sighed, the grip on the steering wheel tightening. 

He parked the car and got off. He waited for Allison to do the same, but she didn't. He had to go and knock on her window, startling her. 

"Sorry, it's just - we're here."

"Yeah, yeah, lemme get my stuff."

She almost forgot to get off the elevator on the right floor, and it took her two minutes in front of the door to realize she needed to get the key out. 

Chris Argent wasn't even home, and the same sweet smell came out of the kitchen. A pie that still had a couple of slices worth of food in it. It looked tempting, so much, but it also felt _wrong_. A note in the fridge told Allison that her dad was out on official business - not that Allison read it, going straight into her room and to her desk, working on the problem. Isaac just followed her. He wanted to do something, shake her out of it, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. 

So he just got his homework out and sat on the floor, as usual. 

The wolf started pacing in him, back and fort, and he couldn't help but cock his head, trying to listen. But there was nothing there, just the sound of Allison's writing on the paper. 

And the smell of that pie, stronger by the minute. 

He got up and went to look at it. How could a pie's smell get stronger? It wasn't fresh out of the oven - it was bought from that pastry shop that opened in the mall, the one that Lorena's grandmother oversaw according to Stiles. 

The sweet kept growing. Unbearable. Isaac grabbed the pie and threw it into the garbage bin. 

He heard the crows in the woods caw like something happened. He saw the murder fly away. 

"Allison, are you OK?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Isaac looked at his girlfriend - was she his girlfriend? - her hair all messed up, her face all pale and blotchy, her hands trembling erratically. She basically dismissed him with a waive of her wrists - her focus completely directed to the little notebook in front of her, muttering in a broken voice about how it was all supposed to be easy, simple, a problem to let herself walk away for a minute and then come back refreshed. 

"Are you sure you are OK?"

She didn't look like it. 

"Allison... Allison!"

"Just a minute, give me just a minute, I'm close to solve it..."

And just like that her voice vanished into more muttering and whispering. Isaac tried to reach her again but she ignored him. 

Something was wrong. He tried to call Scott, but he wouldn't pick up. He tried to call Stiles, but he wouldn't answer either. 

He tried Lydia, but the cell sparked in his ear. 

"Argh! Damn!"

He dropped it. When it touched the floor, the battery sparked again, and the screen cracked.

He hadn't thrown it - it had just dropped - and he had dropped it before. It didn't break that easily. 

"Oh, sorry about that - we didn't want you calling anyone. Not that anyone can help you right now but, you know, just in case."

The wolf immediately detected a threat in the big burly guy and the two women behind him. He went for the strike, letting his claws and fangs come out as he attacked him. He barely grazed the skin on his face before feeling the guy's fist on his stomach. Stepping back to catch his breath, he saw the guy lunge at him, a linebacker ready to tackle. Isaac felt the impact on his body until he reached the wall and blood came out of his mouth. His opponent retreated, screaming, feeling the claws trying to reach his internal organs.

"Son of a bitch!"

"Andrew, remember - he's not important! We are here for the girl!"

"Oh, come on! I always wanted to fight a werewolf!"

"Do you wanna risk the Old Warren's wrath?"

Isaac used that moment of distraction to slash his face again, drawing blood from the guy's cheeks. He saw that the two girls were approaching Allison and went after them. A hand grabbed him by the hair and another one by his belt and suddenly he found himself up in the air and coming down.

"Oh, this seems too easy."

"Allison!"

The girl seemed to be in another dimension - she didn't even batted an eye at the fight that was going on behind her. The other two went to her and made her stand up, guiding her towards the door. 

"C'mon, wolf, give me a fight!"

In a fit of rage Isaac grabbed the dresser and threw it at Andrew. The man's face crumbled in terror when the piece of furniture crumbled on top of him. Those taking Allison stopped and Isaac used that moment of doubt to grab Allison, hoist her up and jump through the window. 

His back hurt like hell.

He went towards the woods - if he could get there Melissa would know something was wrong. He heard someone jumping after them and ran even faster. 

But the woods smelled. Sweet. Stench. _Poison_.

That's when he heard it. That's when his bones turned to ice inside his body, and every inch of his being angled towards something in the middle of the woods. Zeroed in. The wolf listening to the howl that could be heard from anywhere in the city. 

Scott. His alpha.

_Was in trouble._

He _needed_ to go and help him. He switched directions.

But no - it was wrong.

_Allison hadn't reacted to it._ As if she _weren't_ pack.

Suddenly, he felt something push him forward, and he lost his balance. He lost his grip on Allison, who fell in front of him. He tasted dirt. He stood up.

The mountain ash circle closed around him. He saw blue before falling back again. 

"There, there, no need to run around. Who's a good boy?" The man was mocking him while he went and picked Allison up, fireman's carry. She didn't say anything, engrossed in that problem that wouldn't leave her mind. Isaac tried to break through the barrier, to reach to Scott and borrow his power and get free, but he couldn't even focus, the howl, the plea for help ringing in his ears, driving him mad, reducing his focus to one thought only. 

_He needed to help his alpha. He needed to help his pack_.

"Well, this was definitely fun, but you'll forgive us - we have better things to do than play with puppies. Now be a good boy and _stay_." Cackling, the man took Allison away. 

Isaac cried. Isaac fought the barrier. Isaac tried to dig a hole and put dirt over the ash and heard the howl bleeding his ears and ripping his heart and crushing his bones and destroying his being. And Isaac could not do anything. 

Isaac gave up. Isaac fell to his knees, tears blurring his golden eyes. 

The wolf howled.


	8. Lydia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And scream she did.

They were parking near the library when she heard it. Apparently Danny did too - how, if he wasn't pack?

Scott's howl in the outskirts of the city. Rattling her bones. 

Not even five seconds passed when her cellphone was ringing again. Please, let it be Stiles, let it be Stiles.

"Lydia, what just happened?"

"I don't know Sheriff - how's Mrs. McCall?"

"She seems to be improving - her breath is more even now - did you do something? Where's my son?"

"I think I managed to stop the core of the spell, but it may take a while. I'm at the library, Stiles hopefully is still here."

"Lydia, bring him home. I'll try to get hold of Chris and see if he can pick up Scott - I feel like I'm dying inside."

"I know. Me too."

"Do you think you may need help? I can call and create an emergency and have units dispatched to you."

"And have Scott's dad nosing on us? No. Look I'm walking - wow."

There was a huge spell protecting the library. She couldn't get in. Danny neither. 

"Lydia, you OK?"

"There's magic blocking me from the building. They must be here. I'll call you as soon as we are inside."

She hung up - she felt bad, she knew the Sheriff was probably yelling at her right now but that wasn't important. 

"Danny?"

"I know. Theoretically, yes, I should be able to diminish it but I haven't done it before. Well, yes, when Alex, but that was completely instinctual."

"Well, let your instinct kick in!"

"I'm trying!"

Danny closed his eyes and started twirling his staff, but nothing happened. Frustrated, she started screaming, trying to do a wail that could rip into the fabric of the magic or something, but it was useless - she was human at the moment. 

Whatever magic that bitch Lorena was doing was powerful enough to keep them out. 

"We need a witch. We only know one witch and it's that bitch!"

"Not really - I need someone to guide me, someone who can see beyond spells. A low level psychic would do."

"What about a medium?"

"Like Coach?"

Danny immediately took out his phone. 

"Coach, this is Danny. Please, we need you in the main library. You know very well who is this, don't play games with me!"

A cacophony rumbled above their heads. Whatever magic was going on in town was messing with the weather.

"Lydia, Isaac is not picking up."

"Scott said he was going after Allison - he'll know about them both."

Fear. That was what she was feeling. Pure, unadultered fear. 

When Greenberg appeared in front of them she jumped back. She was so scared.

"He's coming - he's almost here. Remember that he thinks of himself a psychic - you don't want to angry him."

The rain intensified. Coach parked next to Danny's car.

"What is it? Wait, what the hell is going on?"

"It's a spell, Coach, we need your help breaking it."

"What? I'm a psychic, not a witch."

"That's all I need."

"What are you?"

"A moonsinger."

"What's that?"

Lydia could see the relief that blinked through Danny's face - the fact that one person didn't know what a moonsinger was seemed to improve his day a little. Lucky him. 

"Doesn't matter. I need you to focus on the barrier - you are going to be my eyes, and I'll look for chinks in it. Please."

"I don't know how to do that!"

"The same way you can see the barrier. Just focus."

Coach closed his eyes and faced straight ahead. Danny put his hand Coach's shoulder and Lydia saw him twirl his staff again. 

"Damn -it's too strong."

"Keep trying, Danny, please."

Danny moved again. Nothing.

One more time. Nothing. 

Desperate, _she_ grabbed him on the shoulder and he gasped - she felt her own power going to him. 

Danny tried one more time, and like glass shattering the barrier fell. 

"C'mon!"

"Danny, Martin, what's going on?"

"Witches, coach, and they have Stiles!"

"Stilinski? The Nemeton?"

They ran inside until they reached the main hall of the library.

Nobody was there. 

The furniture had been pushed to the walls. 

In the center, in the middle of what could only be a magic circle, Lorena and Stiles were in the middle of a kiss. 

No - Lorena was sucking something out of Stiles. 

"Stiles!"

Of course they were late. Lorena just finished sucking on Stiles and the boy fell, completely limp, eyes opened and glassy, shallow breathing that seemed almost unnatural. 

"Lydia? Danny? How did you guys get in here?

"Stiles!"

Lydia ignored her and went straight to the boy's body. He wouldn't respond to her voice, her touch, not even when she tried to play Prince Charming to his Sleeping Beauty and kissed him in the lips. Lorena just cackled madly at her. 

"Sweetie, he's not there, that's only a shell. Stiles," with a flick of her wrist a pendant with a large crystal was in her hand, light coming from the prism, "is here."

It looked like a quartz that had a light source from within. But as soon as Lydia moved to catch it it was gone. 

"You know, Lydia, he talked a lot about you, he respects you. Apparently you are supposed to be this hidden genius or something. At times it got tiresome, hearing him wax poetry about the amazing Lydia Martin, though to be honest, he was sincere. I thought you were not supposed to like him?"

"He's my friend, you bitch."

Lydia went for the strike, but Lorena was a witch, and therefore had at least a basic form of telekinesis. 

"No no no, not my face. It's this face what got Stiles under my charm."

Lydia was angry, and tears in her eyes were betraying her. 

"What did you do to him?"

"Who are you?"

"His coach."

"Not you, you pathetic cockroach of a medium. Danny."

Danny just glared. Oh, how Lydia wished he could kill her with that glare. 

"You're the moonsinger. The singer that costed my conclave three of its best warlocks?"

"I had a very good boyfriend at the time."

"I hope you are not talking about that walking anime character, sweetie, because he's too old for you."

Danny didn't say anything, just kept glaring.

"What did you do to Stiles?"

Lydia's voice was now hoarse. The panic was evident. Lorena just turned at her completely amused. 

"Oh my, look at you. You do care for him. What a pity. Well, I'll be a good girl: I just borrowed his soul. We already have the wolf's body and the girl's mind."

"Allison!"

"She'll die. Oh, don't worry, Stiles will be fine, his body will still function - though I suggest you hook him up, he's a veggie right now - and when we are done releasing him from the Nemeton I'll put it back. A true love's kiss, if you like." 

"Bitch."

"Oh, please, don't be pathetic! Look at you, little girl, crying for a boy you could not even admit to yourself you like. Didn't you just keep him at your arms length, a lovable puppy that would adore you like the sunflower adores the sun? Just another of your followers, increasing your status as an idol. He was nothing to you but a plaything, and now that it's broken you are crying over the pieces? Don't delude yourself: you wouldn't do anything even if you were able to. Now, if you excuse me, I have to go, I've got things to do much more important than look at you cry." 

Something snapped within Lydia. She had felt angry before. Mad, at Jackson, at her grades, at her life turning into some form of hell, at Stiles, at Allison, at Scott. At Peter, when she bound him. She had disagreed with a lot of stuff in her life. But she had never felt truly furious. Like she did at that moment. Not since she had been born. Not since she had come back. 

All of her was trembling, fury pulsing through her veins. A snake gliding through the flowers. 

Lorena had already pushed Danny and Coach out of her way with her magic. She was at the doorway when she stopped and looked back at her. 

Afraid.

"Oh, darling, you won't see me cry. You will hear me scream."

And scream she did.


	9. Epilogue

She couldn't get away from it. She heard it ringing in her ears, like it was coming from inside her rather than the outside. The shrill. Vibrating in her eardrums.   
She had tried to get to her car. The glass shattered around her. All glass shattered around her, like it was also hearing the screams and it was hitting her at the right frequency. Nobody would come close to her even if she cried for help and asked for rides and tried to call cabs, they would look at her like she had lost her mind, or was a beggar, or insane, or maybe all. Her cellphone cracked and became useless. Her voice shattered and became hoarse. 

She ran. She ran as fast as she could, away from whatever it is that she had angered. 

She was only obeying her family. They were not going to kill him, they promised her, but they needed his soul for a while, to release the Nemeton from him and his friends so they could access its full power. It had all sounded so fascinating. Such great power, like a fire to be taken and controlled and used against their enemies. They just had to defeat its guardians. They already had the wolf, and were ready to sacrifice it. There was no way around it - he had to die. She regretted it - he was Stiles' friend, and she had come to find him funny. The hunter was way deep in her way to her own ritual, unbeknownst to her, how easily they had managed to control her father, a single slice of pie. But it had been her who had to take Stiles. Out of all of them, he was the one that could stay alive, but they still needed him, or at least his soul. 

A kiss, and nothing else. He would wake up a few days later, without any memory of the events. If it were to her, without any memories of the Nemeton, and then they could finally be an item. She might have been able to teach him magic, real magic. The Nemeton would have welcomed him back.   
But they had not accounted the girl. The girl with the red hair. 

No, it hadn't always been red. It was strawberry blonde. It had only been red tonight. 

She had to gloat. It was a habit she had picked up from Grandma. If you got it, you flaunt it. And she had always known that the bitch cared about Stiles, even if they were only friends and were not willing to pursuit any further. He had adored her at some point, he told her, but was finally past it. Apparently that had actually made him have a more stable relationship with her, finally becoming friends. Just when he didn't want her anymore. 

She wanted him. She cared about him. She was his friend.

And now she could hear her scream. 

She kept running. Her feet were bare - she could not run in heels, abandoned a long distance ago - and bleeding from the distance. Her dress was ravaged from the time she tried to enter the reserve and hide away from the screams in the emptiness of the forest, but the woods spit her out, angered at her for what her mother had done to them. Her hair was a mess because of the storm that was falling on top of her, even if it seemed a mere drizzle to everybody else. But she could not get away. She kept hearing it. 

Homing her in. 

She finally got back, but the fence would not let her in. Their guard. Their protection. Rejecting her. 

"MOM!"

She screamed. She screamed as much as she could and as loud as she could and she could not drown the girl's scream in her head. If any it was louder and louder and she was feeling smaller and smaller, crushed by its strength. She just wanted her mom to hug her, to hold her, to tell her that everything was going to be fine. 

"Lorena!"

The windows shattered when her mother came out but she didn't care. The gates didn't want her mother reaching her, but she undid the spells and kneelt next to her. Hugging her, asking her what was wrong, what had happened, why the gates were opposing her presence. 

"There's nothing we can do child. She's cursed. You can see the darkness hanging around her aura."

"Mom, please, don't leave." 

"Shh, honey, I'm here. Mother, what do you mean?"

"Just look at her."

Her grandma was crying. Her mom looked at her and gasped, and hugged her much more and now she was crying with her. Murmuring her name over and over and over. 

"Child, what happened? We received the boy's soul, what went wrong?"

"The girl, the girl that hangs out with them, she tried to stop me. I confronted her. She screamed."

Her grandma gasped. She had never seen her so scared as she was that moment. 

She saw her lips move in horror, whispering the monster's name.

She saw tears in her grandmother's cheeks. She started hearing the bells of the grandfather's clock in their hallway. 

"I'm so sorry child, I didn't know, if I had known we would have gotten rid of her first, so sorry, so much danger my girl, I should've known, I should've seen it, but the serpent hid under the flowers. I'm so stupid and I have killed you my dear but I swear to you I will avenge you." 

"Mother, no, she can't die! Don't let her die!"

"There's nothing we can do. She was dead the moment she heard the Banshee scream."

Suddenly, the bells were as loud as Lydia's scream. 

She could taste the salt and copper in her mouth. She could feel the warmth trickling down her ears. 

She couldn't hear her mothers cries now, nor her grandmother's curse, nor the storm that was pouring down their porch. She could only hear the bells. 

And then she heard the thirteenth bell, and she heard no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ends this episode! And it may be a cliffhanger! And I don't know when I'm going to update the next one since I am on vacation right now! (I didn't want to leave you guys with an incomplete episode). 
> 
> So, please read, review, comment, panic, flail, or tell me what you like and what you didn't. 
> 
> Wait for the next episode "Nightmares" to happen sometime in the next week - I just don't know when. 
> 
> And if you want to reach out to me, alan713ch.tumblr.com
> 
> Cheers and happy holidays!


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